


In Your Eyes [Yandere Izaya x Reader]

by ddarkerdreams



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Yandere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:55:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26721007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ddarkerdreams/pseuds/ddarkerdreams
Summary: Catching the attention of someone like Orihara Izaya might prove to be a mistake.
Relationships: Orihara Izaya/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 57





	In Your Eyes [Yandere Izaya x Reader]

7:12 PM. 

This isn’t the time of day that Izaya would normally close his services. Not when most of his clientele operate under the cover of night, crawling out from their day jobs and towards him. Izaya’s second monitor is a testimony to that. Message after message flooding in, notifications going ignored after a brief glance. The inquiries have a wide range. From a businessman wanting to know if the wife in his loveless marriage is cheating on him as he suspects, to the yakuza seeking information on a rival group that has been infringing on their territory. These people, deep as their pockets may be, occupy an insignificant role at the time. 

Izaya’s eyes flicker to the live feed coming in from outside his apartment. One sight in particular catches his attention, his lips quirking into a self-satisfied smirk. He stands from the leather chair behind his desk, stretches, and makes for the kitchenette. There’s a spring in his every step as he walks, fingers running over a variety of untouched teas. Earl grey, matcha, chamomile. _Chamomile might be best here,_ he thinks. Izaya busies himself with boiling the appropriate amount of water. Any second now, he just needs to be patient… 

There’s a tentative knock on his door. 

Izaya already anticipated having a most prized visitor paying him a visit. The door was unlocked in advance, but the excitement in his veins is making it difficult to decide on what approach to use. Calling over to come in, or answering the door himself…? He decides on the latter. Playing the indifferent game is growing tiresome. When he swings the door wide open, Izaya’s greeted by the sight of you. You must not have been expecting such a swift response, as a cute gasp leaves your lips. Ah, how endearing a sight.

Not one to stand in silence for long, he extends an enthusiastic greeting. “Ah, [First]-chan, what a lovely surprise. Come in, come in.” 

You do as he instructs, an uncertain smile on your face. He notes how you scrutinize your surroundings. Eyes shifting to every wall, your posture remaining stiff as you remain focused on nothing in particular. After a moment of deliberation, your attention returns to him, and you bow your head.

“I hope I’m not intruding,” you let out a strained laugh, fixating on the soles of your shoes. “I’m sure you must be really busy, but, uh… I had some stuff I wanted to discuss. With you, that is.” 

“You’re in luck then, as I’m not doing anything at the moment,” Izaya pauses at the high pitched sound that signifies his water is done boiling. From how easily startled you are by the noise, he almost wants to tease you. Not yet, he decides. There’ll be time for that later. “Would you like some tea?”  
  
You nod your head. “If it isn’t any trouble.” 

He takes this time to recall the cryptic text message you sent him earlier. How much self restraint it took not to respond – for the greater good, he reminds himself – the contents catching his interest. You’ve been remaining purposefully vague. Is it to tantalize him? Keep him in the dark for some unknown reason? How interesting, the myriad of possibilities you bring to the table! Izaya’s own theories are plentiful. Hearing it from you beats anything his own imagination could concoct. It was a gamble that you’d actually come by today since he never responded, a test to see just how important this discussion is to you. 

It must be vital if you took the train from Ikebukuro to Shinjuku to get here, as he’s aware you have classes tomorrow morning. The day after that is clear of any university activities if memory serves. This further proves the point to Izaya that whatever it is on your mind must be taking high priority. How his heart flutters at the thought, anticipation rising as he whips together the tea. Humans once again exercise their adaptability, moving along in new directions, with just a tiny push from him. 

When he returns, cups of steaming tea in hand, you’ve already made yourself comfortable on his couch. Your legs crossed, hands clasping together on top of your lap. Izaya’s oncoming set up footsteps must not have been enough to alert you to his presence, so he clears his throat. Just like you did before, you startle, jumping in place. Izaya tuts at your reaction.

“It’s not good to keep zoning out like this, [First]-chan. What if you trip and hurt yourself on the way home? Now, I can’t be having that.” He teases while handing you your teacup. You wear a sheepish smile on your face, cheeks turning a rosy hue from his teasing. This might be the first time he’s ever seen you this out of it. Upon closer inspection, there are bags underneath your eyes, and your overall reaction time is sluggish. Hm…

Izaya takes a set beside you, likely closer than he needs to be, but you never protest. A loud sigh leaves your lips as you sink into his couch. “I sent you a text earlier, but I don’t think you ever saw it.” 

He nods his head in confirmation. The chamomile seems to be working its wonders already, your shoulders slumping down further. Easing you up in his presence has never been a simple task. 

“I’ve been thinking a lot recently,” you take another sip, wincing at how the hot liquid burns as it travels down your throat, “What I realized is that, maybe I do rely on others too much. When Miki went missing earlier this year, you said something similar, didn’t you? That there was a lot I couldn’t do. At the time, I didn’t want to believe you. I still don’t know if I do. So that’s why I wanted to ask if you still think that of me.” 

So that’s what is haunting your mind? A budding identity crisis? He wasn’t expecting something as ordinary as this, feeling almost taken aback that you’d come to him on the topic. Maybe it’s hypocritical of him to think that way. He often finds himself thinking back to the first time you showed up at his office, replaying your words and expressions in his mind like a projector. It’s unlike Izaya Orihara to be a sentimental person, yet he recalls your first meeting with immense fondness. 

* * *

Namie had almost dismissed you. She informed Izaya that there was no practical way you could afford these services, and that taking your appointment would be a waste of time for them both. A standard broke college student isn’t worth all the effort. And on a regular day, he would’ve been inclined to agree. Maybe it had been the boredom, as nothing of interest was brewing in Ikebukuro at the time. Whatever the reason, in retrospect, he’s grateful for the chance encounter. 

“A missing person’s case?” Izaya glances down at the coffee table, where you’ve laid out numerous personal pictures. All featuring the same girl – Yamato Miki – who you’ve come here today to seek help for. The job feels familiar, while simultaneously being unlike anything he’s been asked for at the same time. Information for the whereabouts of unsavory folk isn’t a rare request. This falls into a different category. You’re not asking out of ill intent, or he would’ve picked up on that by now. You weren’t lying when you said you were worried about the wellbeing of your friend. 

His eyes return to you shifting in your seat. “I’m curious. Why not go to the police about this instead of me?” 

From how your nostrils flare, he can piece it together before you even verbalize a response. This is the first question of his to earn such a blatant reaction. Everything prior, you had responded to the best of your ability, trying to keep your emotions in check. You steady yourself with a deep breath.

“I’d gone plenty of times, and none of them seemed to care in the slightest! Miki… she has a bit of a record, you see. Nothing serious, she wouldn’t ever hurt anyone, just stuff haunting her from her teenage years,” your gaze lowers, fists clenching by your side. “Since she used to run away from home a lot, they think it’s something like that." 

Izaya sees the pieces of this puzzle falling into place. It’s been about ten minutes since you came in, explaining your story, and his interest is starting to wane. There’s nothing that sticks out to him as unique. Maybe giving you the time of day was a mistake after all, like Namie suggested. Still, the question remains, why go to him specifically? You, a seemingly upstanding citizen, must surely have better options. 

He’ll entertain this charade a tad longer. It’s not like he has anything better to do.

“It’s not unreasonable to think that,” Izaya can’t help but agree with what the police had told you. The change in your demeanor is subtle, former timidity melting away. Greedy as it might be, he wants to see more of this unsightly side of you. So he continues prodding without relent. “People with troubled pasts such as your friend have next to impossible odds to overcome.” 

Your jaw’s clenching, he can see the imprints of how hard your fingernails dig into the palm of your hands. It’s simple to play someone like you to his own tune, he muses. Izaya just about had his fill of this. Maybe he’ll put a last nail in the coffin for good measure. Will you curse at him? Explode and yell? Break down crying? Storm off without a word?

“Chances are, she got in way over her head, and is currently laying dead in an alley somewhere. Or maybe she is somehow alive! In that case, what will you do then? If she couldn’t rely on you, her supposedly closest friend, why do you think that is? She either doesn’t trust you as much as you thought, or was taking advantage of your kindness all along.” Izaya can’t help the smile that curls onto his lips. Now that’s the look of despair he wanted! Being confronted with a fate you knew all along, and yet tried so hard to ignore. Only to fail, to be drawn into a vulnerable position of reality–

“ _So what_?” The tone of your voice is eerily collected. You take a deep breath, glassy eyes refusing to break contact with his own, a sense of resolve keeping you in tact. Izaya tilts his head at this conjecture, as if to invite you to elaborate further. 

“So what if she might be as bad as you say she is? Miki is my friend. I don’t care for some arbitrary method of judging people based only on possibilities. I’ll see the truth for my own eyes and decide myself.” 

Well… to be honest, he was expecting an entirely different reaction. For you to scold someone like _him_ is borderline laughable, yet here you are, doing just that. So why does he find himself even more drawn to you than before? There’s been passion ignited inside you by his own hands, social etiquette thrown to the wayside. Instead of letting this newly lit fire run rampant, you control the flame, refusing to burn as he intended you to. Izaya Orihara has never been one to back down from a challenge. Maybe this isn’t a waste of time after all.

Izaya leans in, resting his temple on his fist. “Pray tell, [First]-chan, what would you do in the event that I’m right? And your precious friend is involved with stuff she shouldn’t be?” 

“I’ll give her a good wakeup slap,” you place a finger to your cheek, considering the proposition. “Then chew her out for making me worry as much as she has. In the end, I want her to know that she can come to me with anything, even the worst she has to offer. That’s what friends are for.” 

A mindset like this is idealistic to say the least. Optimism has never been a field Izaya has excelled in, as he bases things on concrete reality. Is that even the correct label for your way of thinking, he wonders? You’re not ignoring the possible truth, making excuses for her, or even considering enabling her poor behavior. No, it’s a strikingly _unusual_ approach, that takes far more patience than most people have to offer. The shift in outward demeanor from soft-spoken to this unrivaled confidence backs it up further. 

Izaya wants to know more about you. To peer behind the curtain that is your mind, poking and prodding at everything within reach. Seeing how much you can withstand before falling apart at his hands. _It looks like you were wrong Namie_ , he thinks. _This is turning out to be interesting._

“If that’s the case, I’ll lend you my help.” 

You blink. “Y-you will…? But you just went on a tangent about how my ‘deadbeat’ friend isn’t worth the effort.” 

“What can I say? Your impassioned speech tugged on my heartstrings, [First]-chan,” he coos, a wolfish grin spreading across his face. “Maybe I’m growing soft after all. Alright, now let’s start with you giving me your phone number–” 

“Hold on!” you exclaim, putting up a hand. “I don’t need help from someone like you.”

Now it’s his turn to be thrown off by another person’s words. _Maybe a taste of my own medicine,_ he thinks. 

Here he was, figuring you’d grovel at his feet for help. Now that he’s extending a hand out of what you should perceive as goodwill, you… don’t want it…? There’s no quick, witty response. The cogs in his head are turning, trying to comprehend this bizarre situation, and coming up with nothing satisfactory. He hears what’s most definitely Namie struggling to cover up a laugh in the distance. 

“Were you not just trying to convince me?” Izaya quirks up an eyebrow. That’s how he perceived your earlier lecture, as a way to bring him over to your side. For a rare moment, there’s no condescending lilt in his voice, only a genuine attempt to rationalize your actions. 

You’re already moving on from this loss, picking the scattered pictures up and returning them to your handbag. “Not really. I just didn’t like the thought of you looking down on someone without really knowing anything about them.” 

This time, Namie isn’t capable of muffling her laughter. Izaya sighs as he leans back into his couch. How troublesome you’re proving yourself to be. Do you not realize that a few phone calls from his behalf would be enough to ruin you for the rest of your life? Or maybe you do realize, and don’t care either way. Whatever the case, he’s not letting this go. It’s not everyday someone manages to leave him at a loss for words. 

“So it’s back to the police then, hm?” 

You shake your head at his guess, frowning. “I’ll just figure it out on my own. Thank you for your time, Orihara-san.” 

Now you’re standing to leave. Turning your back to him, you make for the door, leaving Izaya to try and piece together what’s happening to him. Izaya follows after you, intent on changing your mind. Anything to keep you close so he can continue observing. 

“What exactly are you planning on doing? It sounded to me like you had no leads or connections. I’m not sure how familiar you are with investigation work, [First]-chan, but you’re not off to a very good start.” Izaya calls over, successfully getting you to stop in place. It’s a relief to know he hasn’t lost his touch. You don’t look fully convinced, so he continues on.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you’re going to be helpless all on your own,” Izaya points out, your grimace growing deeper with every word. He’s getting somewhere, he just needs to reel you back in. “We wouldn’t want my earlier premonition to come true.” 

“I guess so,” you agree without enthusiasm, lips pursing. Izaya can’t help but feel satisfied with your compliance. Then you continue walking towards the door. “I need to give it some more thought. I’ll call your secretary this evening.” 

With that, you’re out of sight, the door shutting in his face. Hm. He doesn’t get the feeling you’re acting like this out of spite. No, you’re sticking true to your own convictions, trying to get a feel for how to best work things out. Izaya’s already planning to run multiple checks on you. He has a growing curiosity for knowledge on you that needs to be quenched. What school you’re going to, where you currently live, if you have a record–

“I can’t say I was expecting that,” Namie comments in her usual monotone. From the skin tightening underneath her eyes, Izaya can tell she’s still fighting back a smile. “Someone turning down your offer to help _and_ lecturing you? I almost feel undeserving of such a wonderful sight.” 

Izaya sighs and runs a hand through his dark hair. “I’m glad you enjoyed your boss being berated so much.” 

“There’s almost nothing better,” she concurs with a nod. “When you’re finished standing there and moping, I already brought her social media up. I figured you’d want to see it after that display.”

This is enough to capture his undivided attention. The boredom from this week is a relic of the past, Izaya’s enthusiasm for human beings returning in full bloom. What a terrifying beast you’ve managed to awaken. You’ll make for a fascinating source of entertainment. He already finds himself looking forward to the next time you cross paths, Izaya confident in his ability to make this happen. He excels at interrupting the flow of people’s lives unprompted. 

* * *

The rest is history, so they say. 

Izaya’s whittled you down this far, creating a codependency that pleases him, a result of hard work on his behalf. You stare at him with doe-like eyes. _Vulnerable_ eyes. Waiting with bated breath to see if he’ll confirm or deny your deepest concerns. 

He wraps an arm around your slouching shoulder. "Now that you have me, what you are or aren’t capable of on your own doesn’t matter anymore. Isn’t that right, [First]-chan?” 

“I… I guess it might be.” 


End file.
